


Caption

by wunderxfunk



Series: Ink [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 14:19:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2735747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wunderxfunk/pseuds/wunderxfunk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt, Blaine, pillow talk, and late-night doodling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caption

Blaine discovers that he really likes the way that Kurt’s sheets smell. It’s completely innocent, the first time he realizes it. He’s sitting on Kurt’s bed, watching him pick out shoes before they head off to dinner. Kurt is being frustratingly slow, and Blaine flops down backwards, arms crossed in impatience. When he tilts his head, he catches the faint scent—fabric softener mixed with the fresh mint undertones that always cling to Kurt’s clothes. It’s as concentrated as it is when Blaine is kissing Kurt, breathing him in. It surrounds Blaine in a similar way. Surprised, he buries the side of his face in the comforter.

That is, until Kurt huffs from the closet, brandishing a pair of boots. “Okay, I’ve just got to get these on and we can go.”

The second time that Blaine comes in contact with Kurt’s sheets isn’t quite as innocent. They get home from a date, and end up staying up later than usual chatting and sharing a bottle of wine. One kiss drags on for minutes, and then evolves into making out, Kurt’s legs bracketing Blaine’s hips. Unsurprisingly, Blaine ends up staying the night.

Another discovery he makes is that Kurt gets chatty at night. By one o’clock in the morning, Blaine is exhausted, his muscles aching in a way that is perfect and sleep-inducing. Yet somehow, despite a nine-hour workday (Blaine knows, because his shop is only just next door) and a (seemingly) intense orgasm, Kurt keeps trying to talk, murmuring silly things against Blaine’s ear to wake him up.

“A woman came in today and requested a quote from Fifty Shades of Grey. On her body. Forever.”

Blaine frowns, deeply enough that he can feel it twisting his face, but he doesn’t open his eyes or turn around. “Please tell me you didn’t do it.”

Kurt’s arms are wrapped tightly around Blaine’s waist, and Blaine can feel the tick in Kurt’s muscles when he shrugs. “If I turned away every bad decision-maker, I’d be out of business. It’s not as horrible as the YOLO phase was.”

“Oh, honey…” Blaine’s voice is genuinely pained, though there’s also a twinge of amusement. “No. Those poor teenagers.”

Kurt laughs deeply, and its vibrations pass between their skin and echo in Blaine’s own chest. “Not even. It was mostly middle-aged people, oddly enough.”

With that mental image, Blaine cracks an eye open. He tilts his head over his shoulder. “You see. That is why I don’t get tattoos. How am I supposed to know whatever I choose isn’t my own version of  _YOLO_?”

“That’s fair,” Kurt says pragmatically. His arms loosen around Blaine as he props himself up on an elbow. “I would come up with something better for you, though.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“Hmm…” Kurt sits up now, all the way. His movement makes the comforter slide off of Blaine’s shoulders, and Blaine whines in protest. But Kurt ignores him, moving shamelessly out in the open despite the fact that he’s still completely naked. Of course, he has no  _reason_  to be shameful. He’s gorgeous in his entirety—milky pale, and just a  _little_  bit softer than some of his sharp angles would suggest.

Kurt gets up off the bed and goes to get something from his desk. Even though his back is turned, Blaine tries to be stealthy about watching him, only examining Kurt’s form out of the corner of his vision. The barely-visible knobs of Kurt’s spine. The shallow dimples above Kurt’s ass. Blaine stretches out lazily on his back and pulls the covers back up

“What are you doing?” Blaine asks. His last word catches in a yawn.

Kurt rummages through one of the drawers of the desk. “Roll over,” he says.

“Kurt,” Blaine whines. “Please. I’m so tired.”

“Just do it.”

“Fine.” Blaine turns over onto his stomach, propping his face on his arms so he’s looking at the wall instead. “But you can’t get angry if I drift off.”

 There are footsteps as Kurt hurriedly returns, but they halt. Blaine hears a laugh of realization. “Wait, do you think I want to fuck you?”

Blaine’s face heats at the way Kurt curses brazenly. “I—“ He stammers, not daring to look over his shoulder. He is suddenly very conscious of the way his ass is on display for Kurt, even if there is a blanket covering it. “You told me to roll over.”

There is a shuffling of bare feet on carpet as Kurt makes the rest of his way to the bed, and then Blaine feels Kurt sit on the mattress beside him. “You’re half asleep, babe. I wasn’t going to  _coerce_  you into sex.”

“Oh,” Blaine says, and he tilts so he can look up at Kurt. Weirdly, it comes out sounding… disappointed.

Kurt apparently doesn’t miss it—his eyebrows shoot up, and a smile plays across his pink lips. “Wait. You  _want_ me to?”

“I—”Blaine’s face is on  _fire_ , and his shoulders tense up. His whole body tenses up. “No. Maybe. Would that be completely weird?”

The way Kurt looks surprised prompts Blaine to continue.

“I just like that you  _want_ me. It’s not an obsession or anything… at least I don’t think so. It’s just… the idea of you taking what you want and—“

“No, I get it,” Kurt interrupts. He smiles once more, impish and  _sexy_ and all of Blaine’s muscles relax as if every joint is heaving its own sigh. “I  _do_  want you. It’s hot,” Kurt says. “But you seem so tired right now, and that wasn’t at all what I had in mind.”

“What did you have in mind?”

Kurt holds up a felt tip pen that Blaine couldn’t see, tucked between the fingers of his right hand. “Would you be my easel?”

“ _Oh…_ ” Blaine tries not to feel completely stupid for missing the apparent clue in their previous conversation. “Yeah. That’s completely fine.”

“Not that I’ll be forgetting that whole sleepy-sex thing…” Kurt wiggles his eyebrows in an out-of-character, cheesy way that nearly elicits a laugh from Blaine. “Something to file away for a later date.”

At a loss for response, Blaine just rolls his neck and turns his head towards the wall again. Apparently, Kurt takes that as a cue to straddle Blaine’s hips from behind, perching himself on top of the comforter just above Blaine’s ass. The weight is oddly soothing, though Blaine is pressingly aware of Kurt’s nakedness only a few layers from his own.

There’s a cool rush of air as Kurt pulls the covers low enough to expose Blaine’s shoulders, but he stops just beneath the shoulder blades. When Blaine shivers, he feels Kurt gently press a warm hand over his spine, and then feels Kurt press an even softer kiss to the base of his neck. Blaine lets himself relax as Kurt kisses slightly lower, and drifts back into the haze he’d fallen into before Kurt had begun whispering him awake.

By the time he feels the thin tip of the marker against his skin, Blaine is too numbed out by tiredness to even get the chills. He holds on to consciousness for a little longer, trying to trace an outline of Kurt’s strokes in his mind, but he soon gives in and drifts to sleep.

***

In the morning, Blaine wakes up first. There’s a slight kink in his neck from sleeping on his stomach, and it takes him a moment of squinting to place himself in Kurt’s bedroom—the windows there get more sunlight in the morning than his own. He sees Kurt asleep beside him, face peaceful, beautifully blank without the wrinkles of humor he sometimes gets around his eyes when he’s teasing.  Blaine finds he actually misses the wrinkles a bit, and the voice that accompanies them.

Then, Blaine sees the pen sitting on the nightstand and remembers what the conversation that had transpired the previous night. He sits up, curiosity sparking inside of him now that he isn’t battling fatigue.

He gets out of bed as gracefully as possible, walking over to the mirror on the back of Kurt’s closet. He anxiously turns around, trying to ignore the self-consciousness nipping at his mind, cause by his own complete nudity in broad daylight. Finally, Blaine reaches an angle where he can see the drawing on his back.

A few of the lines are just barely smudged, but the image is magnificent nonetheless. Across the width of his shoulder blades, there’s a detailed sketch of a city skyline—not even outline, but an image complete with shading and perspective. He cannot recognize it as any specific location; the buildings are slightly foreign, unfamiliar shapes compared to what he can remember about Chicago and New York and Seattle. Blaine wonders if Kurt designed them purely in his mind.

He moves closer, attempting to make out more detail until he nearly bumps into the mirror. He can see the lines of little windows, and the way that they seem lit up, as if the scene is an evening one. Then Blaine catches it. In tiny, tiny font, so small that it could be Kurt had intended to hide it, there’s an inscription beneath the brilliant image. In simple font, it’s a one-word sentence: “Home.”

At first, Blaine is baffled. He looks to the bed where Kurt’s still sleeping, legs curled and taking up less space than usual. Is this some image of a place that Blaine does not recognize? Someplace that Kurt has felt safe?

Then it dawns on Blaine that he himself is the canvas. Something in Blaine tugs at him, and he feels a rush of molten affection for Kurt. It could be stupid—his sentimental side reading too far into things. But then again… Kurt had to know that he’d notice the word. It had to have some sort of meaning…

He gets back into bed, shifting closer until his nose is nearly touching Kurt’s. For a moment, he gazes, but then gets the sense that he’s being completely creepy. Blaine’s about to back off when Kurt suddenly smiles without opening his eyes.

The wrinkles return.

“Did you see it?” Kurt asks, barely above a murmur.

“Yeah.”

“Is that why you’re watching me sleep?”

“Maybe,” Blaine says slowly, smiling and knowing that Kurt can hear it even if he can’t see it. He stills, letting his expression fall into something more serious as his mind works. Blaine’s heart is beating astoundingly quickly, considering he’s just barely awoken. He can’t stop thinking about the word that Kurt had written, so small, almost a secret. A whisper.

“I love you,” Blaine blurts out.

Kurt’s eyes flutter open, focusing and taking him in. They’re so beautiful, ocean-like, but the silence that follows is so tense that Blaine almost cuts in with an apology just to  _end_  it.

But Kurt’s lips part gracefully, and he calmly replies. “Good. I love you too.”

That answer and the way that Kurt proceeds to kiss Blaine pretty much quiet all the questions in his mind.


End file.
